


Sweet Nothings

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, shameless cheesy fluff with absolutely zero substance, this was a recovery fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they're alone, they have different names for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Nothings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Everyone I traumatized with the last one](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Everyone+I+traumatized+with+the+last+one), [Jamige](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamige/gifts).



Normally, to him, she was “Ma'am”.

“Agent Romanoff” was also a common occurrence, around the helicarrier or S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

With the Avengers, though, she was “Natasha”.

 

“Tasha”, “Tash”, or “Nat” if they were being casual – watching a movie or eating at some obscure restaurant while off-duty.

“Natalia” when he was being tender, “Red” if he was feeling playful, “Baby girl” when he had her up against a wall, kissing her fiercely.

 

“Babe Widow” only happened when he was drunk.

Well, as close to drunk as he could get.

 

In the mornings, when she opened her eyes to find him looking at her, he would greet her with “Hey, kiddo” and a winning smile.

When they went out walking, hand in hand through the city, he would order her coffee while she found them a place to sit, saying it was for his “lady love”.

Days after a mission when he was slumped on the couch in exhaustion, her massaging his shoulders would be thanked with a weary groan of “You're a peach,”

 

It was hard for her not to call him by military terms; she probably called him “Captain” and “soldier” as much as his name. But when she came up behind him to drape her arms around his neck and rest her chin on his shoulder, it was always “Hey there, handsome.”

When he was in one of his occasional joking moods, it was “Steven!” that she laughed, often shocked at whatever he had said; shocked that he was so amusing when he chose to be.

 

When she was drunk, he became “All-American Abs”.

Or any number of things that should likely not be repeated in polite conversation.

 

When she was whispering in his ear, waiting for a reaction, it was “lover boy” she taunted him with. Nights when she couldn't sleep, choosing to study him instead; accidentally wakening him when she brushed his hair back she would apologize with a murmur of “Sorry, sport.” before he would pull her against his chest with a contented sigh.

 

When he was laughing against her lips, hands at her hips, pulling her into his bedroom, she would laugh with him. Then, he was “Tiger”.

There were any number of Russian names that would spill from her mouth; things he didn't understand.

 

But he didn't need to, really.

It didn't matter what they called each other; they knew what they were trying to say.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my apology for my 5+1 and it is nothing but indulgent cutesy fluff.  
> Enjoy!


End file.
